


Ahuiho

by wanderlustlover



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustlover/pseuds/wanderlustlover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t do goodbyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ahuiho

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt** : Send me a ♖ for a hastily written ‘good-bye’ letter from my character to yours  
>  **Recipient** : youcankeeptheboard
> 
>  
> 
> Written about a month back, transcribing Tumblr fics over to the proper place to clean up my loose ends before 2014 starts. [Original [here](http://thebesteverseen.tumblr.com/post/66824615418/send-me-a-for-a-hastily-written-good-bye-letter).]

He doesn’t do goodbyes. 

They aren’t his sort of thing. He’s awkward. He gets stone tongued. He hasn’t forgotten these kinds of ceremonies from his childhood, but he still wants the confine of his uniform, the regimentalness of standing straight, his poster on his head or the crook of his arm so he knows what to do with his hands.

Something that isn’t holding hands. 

Something that isn’t just as beautiful as her. 

Something that isn’t watching Chin watch the waves. 

Something that isn’t shaking his head at his own uselessness, his own powerlessness, his own lack of knowing, his own lack of fixing it, saving the day, doing  _something_ ,  _anything_ , being _on the right goddamn island in the right country_ , when he could have been, should have been, at Chin’s side.

Even if his mo- if  _Doris_  is alive. If Kono is alive.

It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough again. It never is.  _  
_

Steve rubbed his hand along his neck, grit and sand sticking still, looking from Chin toward the water, with a sigh, and muttered to himself, or her, or the wind. The wind that is the only world, that is the one thing present in every of the hundred moments like this he’s ever been party to.

Where the words and the world don’t matter, can’t change or fix anything, and still they come. Demand to come. To be said. To be put somewhere. Slow, and certain. “It shouldn’t have been you.”

Not that he wanted it to be Kono. Or Fong. Or  _anyone_. 

But it shouldn’t have been  _Malia_ , all the same. 


End file.
